


fine by me if you never leave

by Chocchi



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 11:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocchi/pseuds/Chocchi
Summary: Yuri’s jaw drops.Over the anxiousthump thump thumpof his heart in his throat, Flynn takes a minute to appreciate that. It’s not often he—or anyone, really—manages to catch Yuri off guard. Even when Yuri is surprised, he hides it well.  For Flynn to have startled him into wide eyes, an open mouth, and a faint flush at the tops of his cheeks—Flynn proposes. Somehow, Yuri didn't see that coming.





	fine by me if you never leave

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have an excuse for this except i'm gay and i wrote the proposal fic i wanted to see in the world  
thank you to my friend [jude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishguniw/profile) for beta reading!  
ETA: a few people have made comments asking about follow-up now, so here's [a link](https://hopeisour4letteredword.tumblr.com/post/187804239436/someone-on-ao3-wanted-to-know-how-the-crew-would) to the doodles i made for Brave Vesperia's reactions. no fic in the works for that, though, sorry!

“Will you marry me?”

Yuri’s jaw drops.

Over the anxious _thump thump thump _of his heart in his throat, Flynn takes a minute to appreciate that. It’s not often he—or anyone, really—manages to catch Yuri off guard. Even when Yuri is surprised, he hides it well. For Flynn to have startled him into wide eyes, an open mouth, and a faint flush at the tops of his cheeks—

Well. Flynn must have kept this particular secret better than usual. He really thought Yuri had already guessed his plans.

“Flynn,” Yuri says, hoarsely. “You—are you serious?”

“Very serious,” Flynn says, squeezing Yuri’s hand where he still has it caught in both of his own. They’re standing in the middle of his quarters in the castle. Not the most romantic location for a marriage proposal, but Yuri is private about his love life, so Flynn will just have to live with that. There’s no sense in doing this in a way that makes Yuri uncomfortable.

Yuri takes a deep breath and rubs his free hand over his face. “You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the fucking Commandant.”

“So what?” Flynn demands, baffled. Yuri tries to pull his hand away. Flynn holds tight. “We’ve been together for most of our lives. I’ve been with you much longer than I’ve been Commandant.”

“I’m a criminal!”

“You were pardoned! And you were trying to protect people—“

“Like that _really _makes a difference—“

“Not to mention you saved the world—“

“That was Brave Vesperia as a team—“

“You’re a hero,” Flynn says, low and serious. Ninety-five percent of the time, nobody could complain that Yuri’s self-esteem is too low, but Flynn always seems to trip over the other five percent at the least opportune moments. Somehow, he’s still never prepared for it. “Even if you don’t believe me, or any of your other friends, when we say it. Even if you made some mistakes. You’ve always been ready to protect the people who need it. You’re a hero.”

“Nobody else is going to see it that way,” Yuri mutters. “You’re the Commandant. You can’t marry some fuck-up nobody from the Lower Quarter.”

“I’d like to see anyone try to stop me,” Flynn says. “Besides, I’m a nobody from the Lower Quarter. What else could they expect?”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, literally anyone else? A nice young noble—“

“Oh, please—“

“Someone you helped in another town—“

“You mean someone I knew for maybe a week at most?”

“Another knight—“

“That’s skeevy, do you really think I would do that? There’s the whole power issue—“

“Well, you could have been seeing them before you were Commandant, or even a captain.”

“Except I wasn’t, you stupid asshole,” Flynn says. He drops Yuri’s hand to step in close and prod at his chest with a finger. “Because I was with _you_. It’s always been you.”

“Yeah, and I’ve always known—“ Yuri abruptly stops himself, shaking his head. “Look, you just—“

“You’ve always known what?”

“Nothing, forget that—“

“No, tell me. Did you—were you not taking this seriously? Has our whole relationship been some kind of long-term joke to you?”

“No! Of course not, don’t be—“

“Then what? What did you know that I didn’t?”

Yuri won’t even look him in the eyes now. He glares down at their boots instead.

“I was always a placeholder,” Yuri says, finally. “I don’t—I never thought I could be the person who would be at your side forever. You can do better, Flynn. Even if you weren’t Commandant. You can have almost anyone. Someone who’s as good and as smart as you are, who takes your work seriously—“

“I don’t want someone who takes my work seriously,” Flynn says. “I want you.”

Yuri still won’t look at him. Flynn reaches up to cradle his face in his hands, leaning their foreheads together. Despite the tension, Yuri presses back against him.

“I’m not going to argue with you about how good and worthy you are,” Flynn says, closing his eyes. The places where he’s touching Yuri are warm and comforting, and he wants to press closer, to increase and expand those places. He feels awfully tired. “I’ve been trying to do that for years, and since we’re having this conversation at all, I know it hasn’t been working. But—Yuri, I don’t want anybody else. I never have, not for keeps.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Yuri says. The insult comes out weaker than it typically does, disarmed of Yuri’s usual sharp wit. “As I said.”

“Even if you won’t marry me, you’re not getting rid of me. Not unless you actually want to.”

“Oh, and you get to be the judge of what I do and don’t want?”

“No,” Flynn says. “You do. You tell me right now that you don’t want me, anymore—I’ll go. Done. That’s it.”

Yuri’s breath stutters.

“Tell me to go and I will,” Flynn says. He tries to keep his voice steady, but it’s hard to stop the tremble when he can feel it in his very core. Leaving Yuri is almost unthinkable. Flynn has never had to live a life without Yuri in it, not permanently. He had a taste after Zaude and he didn’t like it at all. Of course this wouldn’t be half so bad as Zaude, not as long as he knew Yuri was whole and hale, but... “Tell me you don’t want this, want me—you get to do that. But you can’t tell me I’m not supposed to want you. That’s up to me.”

“Typical,” Yuri says. “I’m not allowed to tell _you_ what to do, but you tell me_—_“

“Do you want me?” Flynn interrupts.

Silence. Yuri exhales a shuddery breath.

“This isn’t a trick question. I just need to know. Do you want me?”

“Yeah, but—“

“So marry me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s exactly that simple. You’re the one over-complicating it.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Pot, kettle,” Flynn says. He cracks his eyes open; Yuri’s eyes are closed, his lashes a dark sweep at the top of his cheeks. The curtain of his hair dulls the glare of the afternoon sun through the window so that they’re huddled together in a warm, dim bubble of their own creation. Flynn wants to kiss him so badly it feels like a physical ache. “You don’t—I can’t make you marry me, and I wouldn’t want to if you don’t want to, I just. I don’t understand. And I wish you would explain.”

“I did explain.”

“No, you spouted a lot of nonsense.”

Yuri snorts. “Then I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Well,” Flynn says. “You could always start with ‘yes, Flynn, that was a load of shit and I _will _marry you.’ That would do nicely. I will also accept ‘I’m not ready yet,’ and ‘I don’t believe in marriage.’”

Yuri sighs. It’s not a big, melodramatic production, or even an exasperated one. Just a quiet little noise that Yuri probably didn’t even mean to make.

“Just… answer one question for me.”

“Anything.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you want to marry me?”

That’s… fair enough. Flynn slides his hands down from Yuri’s face without breaking contact, trailing them down his body until he can rest them on Yuri’s hips. Again, despite his words, Yuri leans into the touch. Flynn tries to swallow down the tentative hope that wells in his heart. He has to concentrate.

“I want everybody to know how important you are to me,” he eventually says. “I want _you _to know how important you are to me. I want people to know you have my heart and I have yours, and that’s not going to change for the rest of our lives. I want to switch your bed out for one properly sized for two, so we’re not always so cramped when I stay with you. I want to think of your apartments in Dahngrest as our apartments, and for you to think of my room here as our room, even when we’re apart. I want to _officially _have joint custody of Repede. I want to know that I’ll be there to see how you look with grey hair—“

“I’ll be a silver fox, obviously,” Yuri says, opening his eyes. His smile is tight and tremulous. Flynn leans in to kiss the corner of his eye, although he knows Yuri well enough to know he won’t cry. Yuri’s eyelashes flutter closed again. “No mysteries there. You don’t need to wait around to know that.”

“Yeah, but I want to anyway,” Flynn murmurs. Since he’s already there, he presses another kiss to the corner of Yuri’s mouth. “I need to see it for myself. And I want to know that you’ll be stuck with my cooking for the rest of our lives—“

“That’s just mean—“

“—That you’ll have to deal with me when I’m a creaky old man in a wheelchair who complains about kids these days—and I want you to get to make fun of people who think you can’t possibly be the Commandant’s husband—“ Flynn catches one of Yuri’s hands in his own and brings it up to his lips, reverently kissing his knuckles. “And for you to know that you always have someplace, someone to come back to even if something happens to Brave Vesperia—and I want you to be legally entitled to all the things that are mine, if anything ever happens to me—“

“Nothing is allowed to happen to you,” Yuri says. He gently tugs his hand out of Flynn’s grip so he can use it to flick Flynn on the nose. “I’ll kick its ass first.”

Knowing Yuri, he just might. “Just in case, though.”

Yuri presses forward until he’s chest to chest with Flynn. Flynn responds by wrapping his arms around Yuri’s back. His next kiss lands on Yuri’s forehead.

“Also,” he says, muffled against Yuri’s skin, “Tax benefits.”

He’s not actually sure how that will work, what with him in the capital of the Empire and Yuri in guild territory, but the joke does its job. Yuri huffs a laugh into Flynn’s neck. “Now you’re talking.”

“Did I answer your question, or should I keep going?” Flynn asks, nosing through Yuri’s hair.

“You can stop,” Yuri says, with enough conviction that Flynn is sure he thoroughly embarrassed Yuri with his sappiness. Well, good. That was the goal.

“Why did you ask? What did you think I was going to say?”

There’s a long pause before Yuri sighs, properly melodramatic this time, resting his forehead on Flynn’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t—damn, I don’t know. Something about how we’ve been together a long time and we weren’t getting any younger, or it was about time, or—something.”

“I proposed to you because I love you and I want to marry you,” Flynn says, and fancies he can feel Yuri’s skin flush hot where his face touches Flynn’s skin. Ha. He always does get a little flustered when Flynn pulls out the L-word. “Not because I felt obligated.”

“Man, shut up.”

“I love you,” Flynn repeats.

“I said, sh—“

“I love you—“

Yuri jerks his head up, eyes narrowed and a scowl ready, but Flynn kisses him square on the lips before he can say anything. Yuri kisses back, hot and fierce and with more teeth than is strictly necessary.

“Stop it,” Yuri growls, when he breaks away to breathe.

“I love you,” Flynn counters.

“Shut _up, _Flynn!”

“No, because I—“

“Stop!”

“I love you. So much.”

“You’re impossible.”

Flynn kisses him again instead of answering. Yuri, still too worked up, snarls against his lips and fists his hands in Flynn’s shirt. Flynn does his best to slow the kiss down. Mostly, all he can do is hold on and ride the cresting wave of Yuri’s frustration. The gentle edge of Flynn’s kisses seems to help, though, slowly releasing the tension until their kiss simmers down and turns chaste. Flynn kneads at the small of Yuri’s back with his fingers until Yuri pulls out of the kiss with a full-body shiver and drops his head back down onto Flynn’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Flynn says. He brushes his mouth against the shell of Yuri’s ear. “I _love _you.”

Yuri groans and burrows his face into Flynn’s neck.

“And I know you love me too,” Flynn adds. “Or I wouldn’t have bothered asking.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Yuri mumbles.

“Didn’t you? You haven’t technically said no yet.”

Yuri pinches him in the vulnerable stretch of his side. Flynn whines, then pitches over sideways onto his bed, dragging Yuri down to the mattress with him.

“GAH! Flynn!”

“Gotcha,” Flynn crows. He attempts to roll over and pin Yuri to the sheets. Yuri uses his momentum against him, rolling them over again so he’s braced over Flynn instead.

“Like I’ve been saying,” Yuri says. “Idiot.”

“Oh no,” Flynn deadpans. He reaches up to wrap his arms around Yuri’s neck at the same time his ankles cross behind Yuri’s knees. Even if he’s on top, Flynn still has him right where he wants him. “What a terrible predicament. Whatever will I—“

Yuri kisses him, firmly. Flynn seems to have successfully bullied the nervous energy out of him, because there’s a remarkable lack of teeth and heat. Intense, yes, thorough, of course, but not urgent. It’s leisurely in a way Flynn doesn’t often get to be while kissing Yuri. He seizes the opportunity greedily. Yuri settles over him with solid, reassuring pressure. By the time they pause, his lips feel bruised.

“I love you, too,” Yuri grits out. _Shit_. Flynn feels like he’s been kicked in the diaphragm, all the air knocked out of him in a heartbeat. “You stupid, stubborn—Flynn, you’re—you’re incredible. You’re the best man I’ve ever—I don’t fucking understand, you could have _anyone_.”

“Then there’s nothing stopping me from picking you,” Flynn says. He cranes his neck to plant a sloppy kiss on Yuri’s jaw.

Yuri takes an uneven breath, resting his forehead on the pillow next to Flynn’s head. “…Fine.”

“What?”

“I said fine. I’ll marry you. Okay? If you want a real answer, it’s yes. Are you happy now?”

“_Yes_,” Flynn says. He jostles Yuri insistently. Yuri makes a noise of complaint, raising himself onto his elbows to glower. Flynn almost smashes their noses together in his rush forward. “Gods, yes, I’m—_mmph_—so fucking happy, Yuri, _Yuri—_“

It’s hard to talk and kiss at the same time, but hell if Flynn won’t give it his best effort.

“Never ask me for anything else ever again,” Yuri says, but it does a poor job of concealing the wobble of repressed emotion in his voice. Flynn peppers his face with kisses. Nothing sticks long enough for Yuri to turn his face into it, try as he might. Eventually, he surrenders himself to Flynn’s assault. “Geez, calm down.”

“We’re engaged,” Flynn says, beaming. “We’re going to get married.”

“You’re gonna be insuff—_mmm—_insufferable about this, aren’t you?”

“I’ve damn well earned it,” Flynn says. Yuri grins back at him, a touch dazed. Flynn could cry from the relief of seeing that smile alone. “I just convinced my childhood sweetheart to marry me. He’s going to be my husband.”

“You’re gross,” Yuri says, flushed a pleasant, rosy pink. Flynn pushes him back to sit on his heels, then topples him over so Flynn can press him into the pillows. Yuri tumbles down willingly. “Oh, now what’re you gonna do with me?”

“I’m going to call you awful mushy pet names while I’ve got you pinned and you can’t hit me for it,” Flynn says. He wrestles Yuri’s wrists down against the sheets. Yuri hollers with outrage and kicks blindly at the back of Flynn’s calf. “Dearest. Honey bunch. Sweetest of hearts. Best beloved. _Baby_. Love of my life—“

“I’ll kill you,” Yuri swears. There’s no real effort behind his attempts to dislodge Flynn, though. Flynn should know—it isn’t anywhere near this easy to pin Yuri down when they’re sparring.

“No, you won’t,” Flynn says. He kisses the tip of Yuri’s nose. “You _love _me.”

“And I regret that a little more with every passing second,” Yuri says, slumping back down. “You wouldn’t even use those. You’re the worst.”

“Mm-hm. You’re the best.”

“Still gross.”

Flynn kisses the corner of his mouth. This time he stays put when Yuri tries to turn into it. Yuri makes a soft, satisfied sound against his lips and presses up. When Flynn releases his hands, they don’t move to push him away, just curl over the back of his neck and his shoulder blades.

“Marriage, huh,” Yuri mumbles.

“That is what you agreed to, yes,” Flynn says, carding his fingers through Yuri’s mussed hair.

“You really do wanna be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

“I do,” Flynn says. “And I want everyone to know it, too.”

Yuri scoffs at him, half-laughter. “You say that like there’s any reason to be possessive. It’s not like you have any competition.”

“It’s not about competition—and anyway, you’ve got your fair share of admirers.” Yuri is strong and beautiful and of course people love him, he’s _Yuri_. Flynn’s not jealous. That would be stupid. He trusts Yuri. “You pick up a couple more on every job, haven’t you noticed?”

“Judy points them out sometimes,” Yuri says, mildly. “But you still don’t have any competition.”

Flynn opens his mouth to argue some more before the implication of what Yuri is saying sinks in. He closes his mouth and tries not to look too smug. For a guy who claims to hate Flynn’s soppy romantics as much as he does, Yuri sure has it in him to make some strong declarations.

“Still,” he says. He skates a hand up Yuri’s side. Yuri squirms away, ticklish, as best he can within the bracket of Flynn’s arms. “Wouldn’t do to have anybody getting bold ideas.”

“I hope you understand that this is going to do nothing to dissuade Patty,” Yuri says.

“I am unfortunately aware of that.”

“…Oh, hell. We’re gonna have to sort out how the kids fit into the wedding party. Damn, we’re gonna have to _tell _them we’re getting married.”

“We could always just elope if you prefer,” Flynn says, half-seriously. Maybe it wouldn’t be _ideal, _but he could live with whatever Yuri wants so long as they wind up married at the end of it.

“Are you joking? Estelle would kill me, as in actually, for real murder me.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to suffer through letting me show you off a little.”

“I’m gonna be a trophy husband, aren’t I?” Yuri says, more of a statement than a question.

“Are you the trophy husband?” Flynn asks. “Or am I the trophy husband? Or both, in different contexts? You’re well-respected for your work, too, you know.”

“No, sorry, you make more money than I do and I’m the arm candy in this relationship. I’m definitely the trophy husband.”

“There’s an insult in there somewhere that I don’t appreciate.”

“No, you big baby, there’s just a compliment to _me_ in there.”

Flynn considers this for a moment. It’s possible that “considering” it involves blatantly checking Yuri out. Yuri rolls his eyes, trying to hide a pleased smile. “You _are _awfully easy on the eyes.”

“See, if you opened with smooth lines like that, our conversation earlier would’ve gone much faster.”

“Yuri,” Flynn says, “In the whole history of our friendship, I have never figured out anything that makes you more suspicious of my intentions than unprompted compliments.”

“Well, maybe you should try complimenting me when you don’t have ulterior motives sometime.”

“I do that all the time!”

“Not to my face!”

“When I try to say them to your face, you start arguing with me.”

“Because you have ulterior motives and you make shit up to support them.”

“Oh, this I have to hear,” Flynn says. There’s no sense in touching the lying part. He’ll have the rest of their lives to work on that one now, anyway. “What are my motives?”

“Seduction, first of all,” Yuri says, haughtily.

“Like I have to work for that?” Flynn murmurs, sliding a hand between Yuri’s back and the bed, leveraging Yuri up against him. Yuri shudders, his fingertips digging into Flynn’s back.

“Knock it off—unless you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is.”

“I always am,” Flynn says. His free hand finds Yuri’s; their fingers thread together. “It shall be good practice for our wedding night.”

Yuri turns an interesting shade of red.

There’s not much conversation after that.


End file.
